


Your Eyes

by precociousMage



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Crushes and Feels, Dave's POV, Distressingly Short Chapters, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/precociousMage/pseuds/precociousMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He asks you why you hate taking them off. </p><p>How do you explain that?</p><p>That you hate taking them off because, despite years of perfecting your indifferent, emotionless visage, your eyes still give away how you feel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Love You, John Egbert.

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a break from Stridercest to write this.
> 
> kinda seems like i'm more comfortable writing from this PoV rather than the one in Brother Lover, so, i might stick with this style for a while
> 
> anyway, enjoy!

Your name is Dave Strider, and you're in love with your best friend. 

You came to this realization about a month ago, when you'd been spending the night at his house. The two of you had been helping Mr. Egbert with a cake when you'd begun flinging icing at each other. 

You'd streaked some across his cheek, and he'd managed to wipe a glob onto your nose. 

It was one of the few times you'd let yourself smile, really _laugh_ , like it was the funniest thing you'd ever experienced. 

Some icing had gotten on your shades, and as you had reached up to clean them, your hands were batted away, replaced by John's. 

He'd slid the dark glasses off of your face, leaving you cringing at the light in the kitchen. 

_Shit._

You had opened your mouth to explain yourself, (No, I'm not an albino, trust me, I've researched it. I'm just a freak) when he breathed out, 

"Your eyes are so pretty, Dave!" 

Pretty? 

Pretty is not the word you'd use to describe them. Maybe intense, or weird, but never pretty. 

Pretty is what you say about flowers, perhaps, but not about a pair of burning red irises.

But regardless of your inhibitions about your eyes, John seemed to like them, even going as far as hoarding your shades for the rest of the evening, ensuring that he'd be able to see them.

John Egbert liked your eyes. 

The one thing that you'd _really_ be considered a freak for. 

That fact alone made your whole world collapse. 

You're kind of used to him asking you to take the shades off now. 

That's not to say that it doesn't make you any less nervous, of course. 

He always asks you why you hate removing them, letting your eyes be seen. 

How do you explain that? 

That you hate taking them off because, despite years of perfecting your indifferent, emotionless visage, your eyes still give away how you feel?

You just shrug and tell him, "Gotta keep up appearances, Egbert."

Your answer seems to satisfy him each time you give it, though he eyes your shades strangely, as if he's just itching to tear them away.

Now, the two of you sit in his bedroom floor. He's talking about something, but you're hardly listening. 

You don't know what makes you do it, but you interrupt him mid-sentence. 

"John, I think I love you."


	2. Striders Don't Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gosh ok, heres part 2. Didn't think i'd be so proud of the first chapter, haha.  
> hopefully, the second lives up to expectations c:

It's been almost a whole day since you told him.

Exactly twenty-two hours on the dot. 

Not that you were counting.

Needless to say, the rest of the night spent at his house was tense. 

He would barely look at you, and when he did, you could swear he was judging you.

You lie on your bed, glaring at the ceiling with your shades off.

You want to cry, but you don't.

Striders don't cry.

_Why did you have to tell him?_ Everything was perfectly fine before you opened your big mouth.

What if he hates you now? What if he doesn't want to be your friend anymore?

You take in the silence of your apartment, glad that Bro had gone out for a while.

You break down, tears spilling over the sides of your face.

_FUCK._

You wish you'd never said anything to him.

You'd much rather keep the secret and continue being his best friend than _this._

Anything would be better than this.

Eventually, you pass out, weary from the burden of your self-loathing.

You don't dream, for once, but you wake up in a worried, frantic state regardless.

You grab your phone to check the time, but you get distracted by a flashing icon.

Someone's messaging you.

\-- ectoBiologist [EG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

EB: dave, we need to talk.  
EB: come over when you can, ok?

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

Shit.

No. 

No no no nononononono.

He's just going to tell you he doesn't want to talk to you anymore. 

That he doesn't feel that way about you. 

That you're despicable, and it's fucking _wrong_ to fall in love with your best bro.

You don't want to face him. 

You don't want to let him see you when he crushes your heart into a thousand tiny sand-sized pieces.

Being the self-hating bastard you are, you find yourself walking out the door, Egbert bound.


	3. He's a Heartbreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bllarghahagh i'm not so happy with this chapter, it's just long and wordy and blah. next one will be better, i promise.  
> angst and brotherly embraces

You finally make it to the Egberts' house, freezing your ass off on the doorstep because you'd forgotten your hoodie like an idiot.

Who the hell leaves their jacket at home in the middle of winter?

Dave fucking Strider, that's who.

Shivering like a damn leaf, you knock in the door, praying silently for this all to be over quickly.

That's the thing with John though, it won't be over quickly.

He'll try to explain himself, try to make things less awkward, but only managing to make it more so.

He'll drag it out, unintentionally making you suffer.

You'll let him talk, though. 

You'll let him hurt you.

You'll sit there with your best poker face on and pretend that his rejection isn't slowly ripping you apart.

You'll do it because, even though he's an ass sometimes, and despite the fact that he's unwittingly killing you, you still care about him enough not to let anything show.

The door swings open.

You could almost swear your heart stops.

John stands there in the doorway, staring at you, trying to scrutinize your expression.

"You gonna let me in, or what?"

Your tone came out harsher than you'd meant, but it got the message across.

He stepped aside and let you in out of the cold, shutting the door behind you.

You crossed the divide between you and the couch, falling down onto it and wrapping your arms around yourself.

He followed you, sitting on the couch as well.

On the furthest cushion possible, you note.

He's been opening and closing his mouth since you walked in, trying to start a conversation, but failing.

"Dude, if you wanna say something, just say it."

"I don't... Dave, I just don't think I feel _this way_ about you! I talked to Rose about it- " 

Wait what.

"-and she told me to keep thinking and make sure I didn't crush your feelings-"

Whoops, too late.

"-'cause even though you act all indifferent, we know you have some, and I don't want to ruin our friendship by saying something stupid! If you were a girl, then maybe we could be together, but I just... don't like guys!" 

And there he goes. 

(Look at that foot, how does he get it that far into his mouth? Astonishing.)

You stay quiet and nod, tightening your arms around yourself, making it look like you were still just cold.

The lump in your throat grows, rendering you unable to speak.

You can see him out of the corner of your eye, staring at his hands that lay in his lap.

The two of you stay like this for countless minutes, -sneaking awkward glances at each other when you though the other wasn't looking,- before one of you speaks up.

"I think I'm just gonna go." Cry, probably. Or yell at something.

"No, Dave. Wai-"

Too late, you'd already rose from your seat and started making your way over to the door.

"See you round, dude."

You shut the door quietly behind you, and you think you can hear John calling your name from inside.

You cram your hands down into the pockets of your jeans, trudging back home through the chill.

Bro is already back by the time you walk in, lounging on the couch with Cal.

He nods at you as you walk past him before tilting his hat up to get a better look at you.

"Sup, lil' man?"

You ignore him, heading straight for your room.

Of course, he's already by your door, leaning against it and blocking you from entering.

Stupid fucking flash-stepping ninja brothers.

"Dave."

You spin on your heel and get to the bathroom, locking yourself in and sinking to the floor beside the sink.

Your brother leaves you alone for the time being, but when you decide to quit being a baby and get out of the bathroom, he's awaiting you in your bedroom.

He stands up from his seat on your bed and starts asking you what the hell is going on with you, but you block him out.

Surprising you both, you half flash-step towards him and wrap your arms around his waist tightly. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and press your cheek against his chest, as he hugs back, rubbing your back.

It's not often that the two of you do this, but when you do, it's nice.

You eventually separate, and he holds your shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly.

"What's wrong, kiddo?"

You take a breath and tell him everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh jeez. ok, i hope this chapter was ok, next one will be much better
> 
> 4th one is in the works!


	4. You Will Not Jerk It To The Thought Of John Egbert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter four, all up and running! chapter 5 in the works
> 
> can't yet decide if i want this to have a happy ending or not, guess we'll just have to see where it goes!

Bro was surprisingly kind about the whole deal.

He understood what it was like not being loved in return.

Now, the two of you sit on the couch, eating mini-marshmallows from the bag and talking about absolutely nothing.

"I'm just sayin', Dr. Pibb is better than Dr. Perky."

"Bro, no. Dr. Perky is _way_ better, it's like the second-in-command to Dr. Pepper. Pibb is a disgrace to the Dr. Pepper off-brand family."

"Let's just agree to disagree, lil' man."

"Yeah ok. Even though I'm right."

He throws a marshmallow at you and it bounces off of your forehead as you make an attempt to catch it in your mouth.

You tug your phone out of your pocket, glancing at the time.

Three am already?

You tell Bro that you're gonna hit the hay and stand, shaking a few marshmallows to the ground. 

"Night, kiddo."

Now under your covers, boxer-clad, you face the ceiling, eyelids dropping in record time.

You dream of John.

Of what his lips might taste like.

Of what his body would feel like next to yours.

Of the noises you could draw from him, and the ones he could draw from you.

You wake up with a start, disappointed, to say the least, that it was all just in your head.

It's still dark outside, the only light in your room coming from the crack beneath the door.

You turn to roll over and- oh wow, that sure is a persistent boner.

Well damn.

Turning back over onto your back, you contemplate trying to continue ignoring it and going back to sleep, but it's impossible.

The thin material of your boxers rubs against it, creating almost tortuous friction.

They feel too tight, so you kick the thick comforter off and wriggle out of the shorts, pushing them off of the bed and onto the floor.

Sitting up, you swing your legs over the side of the mattress and take your length in your hand, pumping slowly. 

You shut your eyes and try thinking of the cute girl down the street, what her soft lips would feel around you, but it's all wrong.

You can't remember what she looks like, and her distorted image is quickly replaced by one with a mess of black hair and piercing blue eyes.

The boy in your imagination smiles up at you from between your knees, adorable buck teeth showing.

You let out a choked noise as you picture him trailing his tongue along you before taking its entirety into his mouth.

Your hand pumps faster, keeping in perfect synchronization with the imaginary boy.

Before you know it, you're spilling into your hand, snapping you back to reality.

There are no words to describe how you feel inside.

But there are words to describe how you feel outside.

Hot, sticky and gross automatically come to mind.

You clean yourself up quickly and stand and pick your abandoned boxers up, stepping into them and leaving your room.

Bro's still on the couch, watching some anime you couldn't really care less about.

You shut yourself into the bathroom and strip again, stepping into the shower stall.

You turn one of the knobs and icy water shoots out, drenching your pale body.

You press your palms against the tiles, hanging your head, letting the spray soak you.

Your insides feel tight, and guilt washes over you.

"You're _DESPICABLE,_ " your conscience screams at you.

It's right, and you know it.


	5. Wow Ok That Was Pretty Gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAHHH FUCK YOU WRITERS BLOCK
> 
> FUCK YOU WITH A SPLINTERY CHUNK OF WOOD
> 
> anyway, now that i've got that out of my system, here's another chapter!
> 
> sorry it took so long, i've just had a crippling bout of blockage all up in my head and i haven't really been able to write much of anything lately. hopefully this chapter won't suck TOO much.

A week later, and you still can't face John.

You refuse to look at him in class, and you've started trying to ignore his pesters online.

The Lalonde ladies try to help you, Rose through music and her mother through kind words and attempts to get you drunk.

Feeling-filled talks and hilarious attempts at drinking vodka aside, Mom (she'd insisted that you call her that,) wasn't really all that much help, the burden of caring for a distraught blonde boy left all to Rose.

You stick in your earbuds and crank up the tunes that the youngest had downloaded for you, silently thanking her because holy fucking shit.

The violin went perfectly with the beats. A match made in musical crack-ship heaven, you think as you begin the trek from school to your apartment, hands shoved in your hoodie pockets.

Unfortunately, your solitude doesn't last long.

Egbert runs up alongside you, talking about something before realizing that, hey, you can't hear a goddamn thing right now.

Of course, instead of letting you listen to your music in peace, he jogs ahead of you a little and turns, facing you as he walks backwards.

The bespectacled boy gestures for you to unplug your ears and you reluctantly do so, pocketing the small buds.

"How do you hear anything if you have your tunes up so loud, dude?"

You sigh and bluntly inform him that, "That's kind of the point of having it loud, John. To not hear anything else."

He chuckles (really, John, how can you be chuckling at a time like this?) and starts talking rapidly again, making you wish you'd just kept the damn music on.

"So as I was saying, Rose and Jade are coming over to study and I thought that since you're not doing too well in Calc then you could..."

Goddamn, look at this goofball, yammering away without a care in the world.

"...OH! In English today, Ms. P. caught that weird, angry kid, Karat? Whatever his name is, she caught him trying to pass love notes to Jade and she..."

Would you look at those eyes? 

Kid's got a gaze so blue it puts the sea _and_ the sky to shame.

Bitches are writhing in jealousy right now.

"...and then Rose told me that she's actually dating his cousin, Kanaya, which is cool I guess, I never really figured she'd be into ladies though, y'know?"

Fucking hell, John, why do you have to be so gorgeous?

"...Dave, are you even listening?"

You're pulled out of your stupor by the obnoxious ringing of a bicycle bell coming up fast behind him.

"SHIT, MOVE!"

And then you're tackling John, both of you falling down to the grass on the side of the path as the asshole on the bike glides by.

"FUCK YOU TOO, BUDDY," you call after him, flipping him the bird before turning your attention back down to Egbert.

Holy shit, you're on top of him.

_How the fuck did that happen?_

Shit shit _shit,_ what do you do?

You realize that your shades have been knocked askew, and the dark haired boy smiles up at you, because of your eyes or you saving him from becoming a pancake, you dont know.

You don't care.

Fuck, he smells really nice.

You want to kiss him so badly right now. 

It would be easy, just lean a little...

Then your lips are touching his, before your brain even had a chance to object.

If there was a scene to depict exactly how you feel inside, it would be footage of an exploding volcano with fireworks and some goddamn rainbows and the sunset in the background while some colorful fucking butterflies dance around the two of you.

Wow, ok that actually sounds kind of (really) gay, but you get the point.

You pull back after what seemed like no time at all, and he stares up at you, expression mixed with surprise and...

What was that?

You don't get a good look because you're standing quickly, turning away from his questioning look.

You walk briskly, leaving John Egbert lying on the cold grass, confused and more hurt than you realize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so the music that i had in mind when writing the first bit was Lindsay Stirling - Transcendence, also some of her other stuff, but Transcendence is the main one
> 
> blarf, i'm not all that happy with this chapter, but it's the best i can crank out right now. sorry to anyone that was expecting something totally worth the wait, you just get some ridonkulous feelings and a tiny kiss.


	6. Queue The Bad Clichés

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah jeez, here's the sixth chapter, FINALLY. i meant to update earlier but i've been hella busy, but it's ok, 'cause i'm back now!
> 
> dave gives an impromptu lesson on mt. vesuvius and walks in the rain  
> (also some kissing got mixed in there somehow, what's THAT about?)
> 
> but basically, this is just mostly dave's thoughts, rather than actions. 
> 
> also, freakishly tall dave and pudgy john.  
> they are my headcanons
> 
> don't hate, just read.

The next day, it rains.

And rains, and then rains some more.

It's almost as if the weather is telling you not to go outside, not to go to John's house and apologize profusely for kissing him after he'd explained he didn't want you. 

But you do anyway, because fuck rain.

What does it know about humans?

Jack shit, that's what.

So, once again, you're headed down the street on the way to casa de Egbert, sans hoodie.

You _really_ need to start remembering that.

Your soaking clothes hang from your thin frame, weighing you down as you trudge along the path.

You'd never really been a fan of the chilly climates, twelve years in Texas had conditioned you for hotter weather.

Now, you think that you'd rather be back there, or maybe on Jade's weird vacation jungle island.

She tells you that there's a volcano on it, which is pretty sweet.

Volcanoes have always kind of interested you, especially Mount Vesuvius, in Italy.

The ash from the volcano smothered and buried countless people, preserving many of them in their horrified positions.

You enjoyed learning about it, so much that you'd even bothered staying awake during that class, rather than sleep through the lesson as usual. 

Old, dead things and fire, could it be any more awesome?

You think not.

The sight of the Egbert's front door looming in front of you finally derails your train of thought.

_It's now or never, Strider._

The door swings open before you even get the chance to knock a third time, and you find yourself being leapt on by John, his lips crashing into yours.

By the way, despite what movies may make you believe, kissing in the rain is not all that great.

That's not to say that you didn't enjoy feeling his mouth against yours, or his arms wrapped around you so protectively and desperately, of course.

It's just that when one of you is soaked to the bone with your pants sagging half-way down your ass, kissing in the rain just a _bit_ uncomfortable.

John apparently seems to sense your discomfort and separates from you momentarily, grabbing the front of your dripping shirt and pulling you into his house.

"Dude what the fuck?"

Your face is a mask of absolute shock, which might've been hilarious in any other situation.

But having your completely "no homo" best friend suddenly attack your mouth like that when you'd come to apologize was _not_ a laughing matter.

This was...

What the hell was this?

John had made it perfectly clear to you that he didn't roll that way, but here he was, leaning against the now-shut door, smiling like an idiot, and obviously itching to smooch you again.

_Oh shit, did you turn him gay?_

In any other situation, that would probably be really fucking great, but right now you just feel confused.

You'd come to try and salvage your friendship, hoping to but this whole shitty debacle behind the two of you, but he had different plans.

"Look, Dave, after you saved me from being run over by that douche on the bike yesterday, then totally smooched me right in the grass, I realized something. I want to be with you!"

Holy shit.

"I dunno if that makes me gay, or what, because I don't like any other guys like this. I guess I'm just Davesexual!"

Sweet Jesus on a pogo stick, did he legitimately just say Davesexual?

And then he giggles like a schoolgirl trying to be noticed by senpai.

Who are you kidding, you know jack shit about Asian terminology.

You have no idea what that was that you just said.

But for real, John's standing there giggling at you, and you're too flabbergasted to say anything other than, "What?"

"What do you mean 'what,' dude? I've changed my mind, I'm allowed to do that!"

You nod and shut your mouth (you're fairly sure you've got carpet burn on your chin from how fast your jaw dropped to the floor earlier.)

Finally awakened from your stupor, you run a hand through your hair and make a face.

"Are you sure 'bout this? Gotta be one-hundred percent sure you want in on this hot Strider action. Once you come in, there's no turning back."

That... probably could have been phrased better.

He snickers and nods, affirming that he's positive.

He comes to stand in front of you and you silently note that he's much shorter than you'd initially realized, but then remember that, oh yeah, you're the giant here.

Strider's always have lithe, tall bodies, making you kind of like giants to people like John and Jade, who are more stocky, and in Egbert's case, a tad pudgier too.

Being raised on his dad's baked goods made him just a little bit chubby, but that just added to the things that made him so cute.

He's kind of like a little dorky, bucktoothed teddy bear.

A teddy bear that is now hooking your shades onto his collar and kissing you, quite enthusiastically groping your ass as he does so.

He walks you backwards, pushing you down onto the couch and laying on top of you, never breaking the lip contact.

God damn, he's an eager beaver.

At some point, the two of you end up falling off of the couch, a mess of flailing limbs and pain.

You're sure sure he bit your lip as the two of you hit the floor.

After tasting blood, you're absolutely positive that he'd bit your lip.

Well shit.

That's what you get for turning someone 'Davesexual.'


	7. Today's The Day You Popped Out Of A Vagina, Man! (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, you guys deserve a happy, drama free chapter, so here you go.
> 
> and if you thought this chapter was about birthday sex, YOU ARE...
> 
>  
> 
> just going to have to read it to find out.  
> nah, i'm sorry, that was mean. they don't have hot birthday sex in this chapter, i'm afraid.  
> buuuut... there's a part 2 to his birthday. WILL THERE BE PORN? who knows...  
> also, drunk aunt roxy is way too much fun to write, like y'all don't even know.

In all the weirdness going on lately, you'd almost forgotten your birthday.

Yup, December third, Dave Strider (that's you, bro) is a newly turned seventeen year-old.

Fuck yeah.

Bro sends you out of the house under the ruse that you need milk, which you totally don't.

There's like, 3 jugs in there, man.

If you're gonna send someone out of the house to throw them a party, at least try to make them get something less obvious.

Oh yeah, you know Bro's throwing you a little party, he does every year, invites the lovely Lalondes, John and his dad, and Jade, the whole shebang.

Are you excited?

Nah, that's an understatement.

You get to hang with your friends, gets some cool shit, Papa Egbert's making you a cake, and of course, get to see John without all the awkwardness.

As it turns out, he didn't injure your poor mouth that bad, it was just a nick, but sweet baby Jesus that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Fucking Beaverboy.

Well, not yet you aren't.

Anyway, back to the present, which has you lugging two grocery bags back to your apartment, one with a jug of milk, the other fucking loaded with Cheetos and candy.

Your diet is really shitty, you'll admit that, but with all the sword fighting and leaping around with Bro, you've still got a pretty hot bod.

John seems to think so, at least.

Last night, after he'd helped you with your bloody lip, the two of you had sat on the couch, talking about feelings and junk when he'd situated himself on your lap, running his warm hands over your bare chest ('cause there's no way in hell you're gonna sit there in a wet shirt, dude, come on,) offhandedly mentioning that he'd never realized how nice your body was.

You know you'll end up telling that story to yourself over and over again, languidly stroking your ego.

So what, you're allowed to do that.

You're sexy and you know it.

Queue the over played song, start dancing like a stripper.

Nah, that's ok, you're home now, it would be kind of stupid to start that in front of the door.

You shove your key in the lock, twist, and call out as you open the door, "Yo Bro, I got you the milk we didn't need at a-"

Lights turn on, people jump up from their respective hiding places, all screaming a collective, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

You are totally surprised right now.

You paste on your best 'Oh my god I'm so shocked' face and hand the bags to Bro who'd come over to take them.

Of course there's a cake on the table, neat red icing spelling out a 'Happy Birthday Dave,' with seventeen little orange candles around it.

You've got the best friends ever, undeniably.

They all sing Happy Birthday to you, and Bro tries to go for another verse, but Aunt Roxy gives him that look over the top of her martini glass that tells him to stop or she'll shoot him in the face.

It was like all of your other birthdays, except this one had you and John sneaking off to your room to make out as everyone bustled around the kitchen to make your birthday dinner.

Mmm, lasagna.

Wait, no, stop thinking about food, dude, you've got someone trying to kiss you.

Mmm, John's mouth.

That's better.

The two of you sit side by side on your bed, effectively sucking each other's face off, when suddenly you hear someone knock on the door.

With no further warning, your cousin Rose strides in, quickly saying, "If the two of you would be so kind as to stop trying to eat each other long enough to come into the kitchen, that would be wonderful."

She turns on her heel and walks out just as the pair of you separate.

You turn back to John and he kisses you once more, breathing, "Happy birthday, Dave," into your ear before standing, taking your hands in his and leading you back to join the others.

When the two of you enter the kitchen, the small group stops what they're doing to look at your hands, or more specifically, John's hand entwined with yours.

Aunt Roxy is the one to react first, gliding over to the pair of you and planting a loud, vodka tinted kiss to each of your foreheads, smiling.

"I totes called it, Dirky. I told you they'd be all over each others faces eventually. My lil' gay babies," she cackled, pulling you both into a hug, smashing poor, short John's face against her boobs.

After she released you, the two men came over.

Dadbert's face was filled with pride as he congratulated the two of you, telling John how happy he was that his son had found you to be with.

Bro just gave you a fistbunp and an understanding nod.

Sitting on the counter, Jade was giggling.

"You guys, we can all go out on triple dates! You two, Rose and her little lady friend, and me and my boyfriend!"

You resisted the urge to cringe at that.

Jade's boyfriend, Karkat, didn't really mix that well with you.

Long story short, he'd tried to get in your pants a few months ago, you'd rejected him, and he'd been a dick to you ever since.

But he makes Harley happy, and as long as he keeps doing that, you've got no beef with him. 

Rose's "lady friend," as Jade put it, was a lovely girl named Kanaya, and she and Karkat happened to be distant cousins. 

How someone like him came from the same family as her, you'll never understand.

The two of them were from Britain, moved to the states last year together to be closer to Jade and Rose, who'd they had been talking to since you were all thirteen. 

Anyway, enough about them, Bro is talking now.

"So, grats to y'all. Now how 'bout we eat some of this fucking delicious food and open your gifts?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the next chapter, the contents rhyme with smurfday pecks.
> 
> aw yiss


	8. To My Beautiful Readers

Once again, you cannot be the author, because she's still screaming into that pillow, though not from stress.

She's come to realize that every single one of you are beautiful and amazing and she wants to hug every single one of you, and never let go.

Thank you everyone for being so understanding and patient with her, but most especially for helping her realize that it's ok for her to take her time!

She is also so done with the third person shit for a second, so bear with her for just a moment.

I'm also going to take this as an opportunity to officially announce that I'm going to take a (hopefully) short break from writing for a while and try to focus on things going on in my life before I resume 'Your Eyes.'

I'm fairly certain that if I actually tried writing right now, it would end up being something like, "and then john totally touched dave's penis, then they had super gay makeouts."

So, yeah. You can see the problem there.

Ahem, anyway...

I love every single one of you, thank you for giving me so much support, loving comments, and kudos, you have absolutely no idea how much it all means to me!

If any of you have any suggestions to help with the block, or just any helpful advice at all, don't be shy, I'd love to hear it!


	9. Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still can't quite get into the groove of johndave, so it might be a bit longer before you see another update, but hopefully this makes up for it?

You are now Dirk "Bro" Strider and you couldn't be happier right now. 

With the kids in the living room, the three remaining "adults" stay in the kitchen to finish dinner.

You are currently sitting on the counter next to Roxy, nudging each other and whispering as Mr. Egbert bends over to get the lasagna out of the oven.

"That man has the nicest ass I've ever seen, Rox. Butts like that should be illegal."

"We better call the po-po then, 'cause we got a booty-mergency here."

The two of you snicker as the other man stands again, putting the dish full of cheesy, meaty goodness on the counter.

"Psst, Di-Stri," she hisses.

"Hm?"

"Go touch the butt."

"Why don't you touch it?"

"B'cause I dared you first, now go feel that plush rump. You know you wanna, Dirk."

Welp, you can't say no to a dare like that.

You slip off of the counter and stand next to the dapper gentleman currently cutting up the lasagna.

"Damn, that looks delicious. You did good, man."

And with that, your hand paps that firm butt under the cover of a 'well done' slap.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel as good as it looked. 

Roxy snorts into her glass behind you as you remove your hand, nodding at the older man.

You turn to get the rarely-used plates out of the cupboard and shoot Rox a wink over your shades. 

Naturally, she wonks right back in return. 

Your thoughts suddenly return to Dave again, and you wonder if he'll like his gift.

You and John had collaborated and come up with something you're both certain Dave will love, it was just a matter of waiting now...


End file.
